


Find Me

by thekingslover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25457776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: Cas’s wings were broken and he was so far from home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr blog, [thekingslover](https://thekingslover.tumblr.com). Come say hi if you wanna :)

Cas’s wings were broken and he was so far from home. He’d fallen in battle, nearly killed. He’d hit the earth hard enough to make a crater. He crawled out on his elbows, sinking in mud. His knees refused to bend.

Grabbing clumps of grass, he heaved himself over the side of the crater. He had to hide. The enemy might be searching. They’d find him in the open.

He dragged himself from a field to a tree line, and collapsed under a canopy of pine needles and gray skies.

Usually immune to temperature, the chill startled him, seeping in through his torn pants and sleeves. The earth was hard under his shoulder and his head as he let it fall. His breath - he was so weak, he needed to breathe - puffed out, visible little clouds.

He should have died. He didn’t.

He wanted to go home.

They weren’t far. They couldn’t be. He searched for them while falling. He used the last of his strength to find Dean’s soul and _cling_.

Even now, at a fraction of his usual power. he could sense Dean’s soul and curled toward its heat.

If his wings… If his legs…

If he could move, he would find him.

As it was, he could only close his eyes and pray, “ _Dean.”  
_

As his grace weaved itself back together, it tugged at Dean, too.

Still, it was well into the night before Cas roused to the familiar roar of the Impala’s engine. To the screech of tires. The drop of boots to pavement. A voice he was certain he dreamed, “Cas!”

“He could be anywhere, Dean,” Sam said.

“No, he’s here. I know he’s here.”

Cas turned his head. Flashlights illuminated the base of the crater. 

Dean cursed.

“You don’t think -” Sam started.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Dean said, voice strained.

“Dean,” Cas tried, but his throat was raw. He couldn’t speak louder than a whisper. He reached with his grace instead, probing gently at the ends of Dean’s brilliant soul. 

It hurt. Everything hurt. But if Dean found him. If he had Dean, it would all be okay again. 

“He’s not here,” Sam said.

“Wait.” The beam of the flashlight lifted toward the trees. Pine needles sliced at the light. Only a sliver found Cas.

That, perhaps, was enough.

“Cas!” Dean stormed forward. He shoved away branches and stomped through mud. His flashlight dropped first, then his knees. He pulled Cas up by his fraying lapels, tugging him out from the underbrush and into his arms.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean heard him. Dean found him.

He’d made it home.

“You’re going to be okay,” Dean promised. “I’ve got you now.”

And Cas knew both to be true.


End file.
